aetates

Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade . . .

On the morning of the masquerade a perfectly wrapped parcel appears on the bedside table with no note at all. Whether you decide to dress or not is up to you however at 7pm sharp you feel that familiar tugging sensation in the pit of your stomach and suddenly you are in a vast, lavish ballroom among many others. It's a beautiful affair, clearly expensive with food off to one side and a band already playing.

Are you going to try and join in the festivities or find away out of the room which doors only seem to lead on to patios?